Murder in the City of Notions
by ComicBookStory
Summary: While a possible serial strangler terrorizes the city, Rizzoli's mother  and Dr. Isles  set her up on an ill-fated date.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Janie, take these plates into the dining room." Mrs. Rizzoli handed her daughter a stack of dishes. "And you should change that shirt, sweetie. It's stained."

"Ma, you can't even see it." The fact that she had never noticed the stain was a testimony to Rizzoli's care about her appearance.

"How do you expect to attract..." Her mother lowered her voice dramatically, "_Male attention_ wearing stained clothes? At least bleach it or something."

"I don't need 'male attention'." Rizzoli said stiffly, sidestepping her mother and dodging into the dining room. She took her time setting the table; no use in spending more time under her mother's scrutinizing eye. As she laid out forks and knives, Rizzoli wondered if her mother truly thought that she would forever be alone. That she needed so desperately a boyfriend or husband. As if little Janie couldn't take care of herself. Her stomach clenched at the thought.

"Hey, Jane!" Loud footfalls preceded Frankie's arrival, and moments later he stepped into the room, grinning over a bouquet of flowers. "How're you?"

"Fine." She set down some more forks. "Are those for ma?"

"No." He wore a boyish grin. "They're for this girl I'm seeing."

"Classy." Rizzoli said.

"Frankie!" Their mother swept through the door. "You bought those for a girl?"

"Yeah, Ma." He set the flowers on a sidetable. "Remember Josephine De Leur?"

"No—is she a friend of the family?"

"Ew!" Rizzoli barely suppresses a shocked laugh. "That girl on the bus who used to pick her nose?"

"Really, Jane? That was years ago." Frankie said hotly. "She's really nice now."

"Uh-huh." Rizzoli was not convinced. "Well, in third grade, she was gross."

"Jane Rizzoli!" Their mother protested loudly. "Your brother is seeing a _very nice young woman. _Why do you always have to butt in?"

"I don't!" Rizzoli felt trapped between her mother and brother. She breathed a sigh of relief when her phone rang.

"Rizzoli."

"Who is it?" Her mother asked from the other side of the room.

"Jane? This is Korsack. We've got a body downtown."

"I'll be there in ten." She hung up and turned to her mother. "Ma, I..."

"Janie! You're leaving already? We haven't eaten yet!" Her mother looked scandalized. "Why is your job more important than family?"

"It's not, Ma. I have a case."

"But _Janie_..." Her mother began. Janie gave her a lightening-fast hug, then hurried from the room.

...

The victim was young, strangled and dumped in an alleyway downtown. The sunlight overhead was harshly bright, and Rizzoli and Frost squinted as they approached the crime scene. Rizzoli sighed when she saw the boy's body. She hated seeing Boston's youth dead, and this boy was no exception.

"Just a kid." Frost said quietly. "Why the hell do people kill kids?"

It was a rhetorical question, and one that no one had an answer for. Rizzoli pressed her lips together.

"Isles, he have any ID?"

Dr. Maura Isles glanced up from her position beside the boy's body. "No ID, but I'm sure that if you show his picture to the local junior high-schools..."

"We will." Rizzoli sighed. "God, when I was in junior high, all I cared about was making the field hockey team and how much I hated my social studies teacher."

"For me, it was always science." Frost said. "Mrs. Hark seemed to hate me, but I could never see why."

"Really?" Isles stood up, snapping off her latex gloves. "I never had issues with my teachers."

"Of course you didn't." Rizzoli couldn't help but smile a little. "Look, I'll stop by later, see what you've got."

"See you then." Isles turned back to the body as Rizzoli and Frost stepped out of the alley's shade and into the sunlight, ready to find a killer.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"Well, he seems sort of familiar, but he certainly doesn't go to this school." The principal shrugged apologetically. "Maybe I've seen him around the neighborhood, you know?"

"We understand." Rizzoli pocketed the victim's photograph. "Thanks for your time."

"Of course." The middle-aged woman shifted some files on her desk. "I hope you catch whoever killed him."

"We're working on it." Frost told her as they left. Rizzoli stifled an exasperated sigh: they had been asking around at local schools for nearly three hours, showing the boy's picture to dozens of principals, school secretaries and teachers, but no one had any idea as to who he might be.

"Maybe he didn't go to school." Frost suggested as they stepped out of the school's shadow and into blinding sunlight. "When I was growing up, we all knew that the Nelson kids didn't go the school. Their dad was a drunk and I guess he just never made them go."

"For us, it was always Robbie McDean and his little sister." Rizzoli recalled the red-headed tyke and his tag-along kid sister. In elementary school, everyone had been jealous of the McDeans because they had managed to escape the daily torture of homework and mean teachers. But when Rizzoli had entered sixth grade, Mrs. McDean had been arrested by the truancy cops. That had certainly brought an end to the jealousy. "You've got a good point there, Frost."

"We could put his picture up on the news." Frost suggested. Rizzoli sighed. Putting their victim's picture on the news would mean that getting an ID was in the public's hands.

"That's what we'll have to do." Rizzoli was sure that someone in the city would recognize the boy. Someone had to. There might be plenty of teenagers without families, but few were without good friends and neighbors. Someone would recognize him.

They had to.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter One

_"The boy, who was found dead today in the downtown area, is yet unidentified. Viewers with information regarding this boy are urged to call the Boston Police Department at..."_

"That's _terrible_!" Angela Rizzoli exclaimed. "Janie, did you hear about this?"

"Yeah, Ma. I'm working the case." Rizzoli's patience had been wearing gradually thinner all afternoon, and things had taken a turn for the worse when she had dropped by her parent's house to pick up a jacket that she had forgotten there. "I just need to grab my jacket and go."

"No need to get snippy, Janie." Angela said loudly, sifting through a stack of laundry. "It's here somewhere, I'm sure."

"You washed it for me? Ma, you didn't have to..." Rizzoli longed for the cool silence of her apartment. Solitude.

"It was dirty, Janie. Remember what I told you? About..." Angela gave her daughter a meaningful glance.

"Male attention." Rizzoli knew that she sounded a little spiteful. At this point, she didn't really care. "Right. You know, Ma, I'm not going to be...I don't know, a spinster. Or a crazy cat lady."

"You don't know that." Angela replied. "Your brother is dating a nice young woman...can't you find some nice, lonely man?"

"Ugh, Ma!" Rizzoli was glad when her mother fished the jacket from a heap of clean shirts. "Look, I don't have _time_ to date! You know that."

"You could go to dinner with Andrew McLean on Friday night." Angela suggested. "He's a family friend, remember?"

"Ew. No, Ma." Rizzoli took the jacket and gave her mother a quick embrace. "Thanks, but...no."


End file.
